I See the Color Red
by Accidental.Enlightenment
Summary: Glowing red eyes in the night. Flash of red amidst a fight. Blood that stains the pure white snow. I See the Color Red, you know. An unique story focusing on all things red. And the one girl who hates it all. [COMPLETE] Slight AU.
1. Chapter 1

_Glowing red eyes in the night. Flash of red amidst a fight. Blood that stains the pure white snow. I see the color red, you know._

**I See the Color ****Red**

_Eyes that glow in the night  
Streak of Crimson in a fight  
Splash of blood that soils ground  
Taint the snow all around  
I See the Color Red_

Now, sleeping as I do on the bottom half of a bunk bed, to shoot up panting is not a wise idea. But then again, I never said I was anything close to wise. Cursing under my breath, I roll out of bed and manage to bang the back of my head on the bunk above me as well. Letting out yet another stream of colorful words, I stumble around my dark room trying to hit the light switch.

Once on, the bright light blinds me for a moment before my eyes adjust. A quick glance around the room reveals that my room is a mess. Yes, I take full responsibility for this dump. Especially considering no one sleeps on the top bunk.

Well, at least, not anymore that is.

With a quick glance at the top bunk, I swim towards my closet and pull out the closest set of clean clothes. Pulling on a pair of vanilla colored pants and an over-sized black T-shirt, I hop over all the obstacles littering the room and somehow get to the kitchen.

My twin brother Crimson would never have let this place become such a wreck. But then, Crimson never could stand not having anything to do. He was so good with his hands he always had to be doing something, so he cleaned. So how such good person got caught up in the kind of mess he did, only the Fates know.

I pour myself a cup of coffee and drain it in one gulp. Leaving the empty mug on the counter, I swoop down and snatch my backpack off of the floor where it lay leaning against the wall. Without missing a step I make a bee-line for the door, checking to make sure I have my keys before I lock the door behind me.

I still find it strange that even without my brother to remind me, I do everything as he would expect me to. Well, everything but clean my room. But that's only because no one is going to see my room anytime soon.

Casually, with my bag slung over one shoulder, I stroll the short distance to the bus stop. It's not that I can't drive or don't have a ride or anything, it's just that the bus is cheaper, especially taking into consideration gas money, which I'm short on. And the fact that finding a parking space in the school parking lot is near impossible in itself –much less expecting to get in or out of the lot any time between ten to twenty minutes.

As for walking, I prefer not to. Even considering that compared to hiking around the farm back home this is a piece of cake –wait, that's a bad example. Do you know how hard it is to bake a piece of decent cake? Much less a whole cake.- No, this was a stroll in the park, -not that I tend to take many strolls in the park. But you get my point.- Really, I don't much care for walking, especially since Crim's been dead. It's dangerous on those streets I tell you; _dangerous._

The last thought I think before I climb onto the bus is how much I miss Crim before I force my mind to concentrate on getting a head start on today's lessons. English was my first class and knowing my teacher, we would be reading the next chapter or two of the required reading book. This action being done in complete silence where everyone reads to themselves at their own pace. Mr. Jennings loves his reading time. That, or we would be discussing the chapters we were assigned yesterday. With any luck I can get through what remains of the book to be read early and get to work on the predicted science homework.

Now don't be thinking me a nerd or anything. I have my reasons for keeping one step ahead of my teachers. The first, I admit, is that I find it fun. The second however, is of more importance. I have an after school job with long hours. I tend to come home so exhausted that I only have enough energy to take a shower and collapse into bed. Most of the time I do my best to complete my homework during class, and what I don't finish is crammed into the times I find myself without a task needing to be done at work.

Sliding into my regular seat, I pull out the reading book from my backpack and flip to the page where I had left off. As soon as I find the exact spot I need to start reading at, my mind becomes oblivious to all surrounding senses. I am in a completely different world. Handy ability if I do say so myself. Can practically zone anything out, that is, if I want to.

When I'm reading on the job, my mind works the opposite way, where I can pay enough attention to what's going around me to know when I need to stop reading and get back to work, most of the time before someone can open their mouth to tell me so.

Even when the bus stops, my nose is still stuck in the book, trying to get as much reading done as possible. Only when the entire bus is empty of all its previous occupants do I stand up and almost subconsciously pick up my bag and glide off the bus. I swear, I could be mistaken for a zombie if it weren't for the book in front of my face. Not that anyone notices anyway. People at this school tend to ignore me. They used to call on me when they needed help. Key phrase: _used to._

That was before I got a job and started working harder. Everyone kind of drifted away from that point on. Everyone, that is, but Crim. He would always tell me things like: "Hey, you gotta study for me too, okay? I can't go to school 'cause I'm working full time and all, but you can study for the both of us." Ch, my bro never did bother to study. Said it was my department. He was just good with his hands and that was all he ever needed. Such a bright eyed, naïve, innocent kid. Ah, listen to me, I sound like some old geezer now.

Without even looking to see where I'm going, I slip into my seat in the back of the room. See, my English teacher's weird that way. He put us in alphabetical order by last name; _backwards_. And considering my last name is Breaks, I happened to have landed a spot in the back of the room. On my left is Karren Dykes. She's one of those quiet types. At least in class. As for who sits on my right. Well, I'm lucky in that prospect. It's an empty seat. My English class comes to a total of thirty-three students, one off from the maximum class size for my district.

As you can guess, I still have my nose stuck in the book, even as the bell rings and the morning announcements are rattled off with the occasional verbal stumble. I sigh. This is why no one really listens to the morning announcements. If anyone's truly curious, they can stare at the hard copy postings in most of the classrooms, in front of the office, or on the library door.

Remember when I mentioned I could read and still pay attention to what goes on around me? I bet you already figured out I was doing that while finding my seat and all that. Well, what I fail to notice while I'm busy being a bookworm is that during the announcements, some new kid slips into the room and starts speaking with the teacher quietly up in the front. I do however pay attention to what Mr. Jennings says when he introduces the exchange student.

"Class, allow me to introduce our new student, Shuichi Minamino. He's a transfer student from Japan and we should be honored to have him join us. I expect each and everyone of you to make him feel welcome. Now," Mr. Jennings pauses, probably scanning the room to remember the layout of this period's class. "If Ms. Brea-" Say no more, my hand is up in the air and pointing to the empty seat on my right. Whether or not I put my book down is irrelevant as far as I'm concerned, because I have no intention of making friends with the new kid, and I know that Mr. Jennings is perfectly aware of my study habits. "-ks, ah, of course I wouldn't have to ask, she's already raised her hand." I can almost hear him smiling warmly.

This said, I let my hand drop down to my book again as I turn the page. Next to me I sense the new guy sitting down on my right. I don't even bother to look up.

Meanwhile, Mr. Jennings starts class. "Well, class, since we have a new student today, I believe we'll have another one of our just read days to allow Shuichi time to catch up with the rest of us."

Just like I told you, read time. With the confirmation of today's lesson plans, I continue to read undisturbed and manage to finish the book a few minutes before class ends. I stare at the last page for a moment, knowing that if I were to put the book down now, I wouldn't have enough time to work on anything else.

With a glance at the clock in the front of the room, I figure a little curiosity never hurt, so, still holding the book up as if I were reading, I let my eyes wander towards my right. What I see puts me on edge, and I immediately stiffen.

_Him._

There's no mistaking it. My eyes narrow as I take in his appearance. Proper posture, lithe frame, calm expression, and most incriminating of all, that long red hair. No two people in the world could possibly have the same bright red hair. A shade so rare as that is unlikely to be replicated by any dyes known to mankind. I _hate_ that color.

I dislike the color red in general. But that shade in particular I _loathe_. It must be him. I can still see it as clear as day, disregarding the fact that it was nearing eleven pm and snowing that night.

How can that murderer be sitting so calmly next to me, like he has any right to be there. Even better, _why_ is that heartless bastard here at all?

Luckily, the bell rings, reminding me it isn't wise to just sit and glare at your brother's killer for any length of time. That's right, Crimson Breaks died at the hands of that redhead. I refuse to acknowledge his humanity with a name.

As casually as possible, trying not to appear suspicious, I put my book away and sling my bag over my shoulder, allowing all the other students in my row to leave before me so I would have a clear path to the door.

"Um, Ms. Breaks. A word please." Mr. Jennings' voice prevents me from gliding out of the room.

Stopping in my tracks, I do an about face and raise an eyebrow at my teacher. "Yeah...?" I drawl out hesitantly, dreading what I suspect he's about to say. While waiting for a reply, I notice that the room is now vacant of all students and the Akage is standing just outside the door, as if waiting for something. I narrow my eyes considerably.

"Ms. Breaks, if you wouldn't mind," which I imagine I would. "I was thinking you could show Mr. Minamino around campus."

"As a-" I am cut off before I can say otherwise.

"Thank you. I knew I could depend on you." Oh Lordy he's shaming me into it. I twitch as he turns away and goes back to grading papers.

Doing my best to refrain from kicking a desk or walking into a wall, I storm out of the room, not caring to hide the fact that I resented this assignment. Outside the classroom, I stop next to Akage and look the other way, staring out the wide windows over looking the courtyard on the other side of the hallway.

"Schedule." I hold out my hand to him, making it clear I don't care to be helping him at all.

Without a word, the schedule he had been holding in his hand is placed in mine. It doesn't take me long to begin glaring at the yellow slip of paper as if I expect it to catch on fire. English, History, Science, Math, Lunch, Japanese, and PE. My exact schedule. Although, I will admit, the boy doesn't have the same PE teacher, but just being in the same period can guaranty a run-in at least once a week.

A flick of my wrist and I let the flimsy square of paper slip through my fingers, not caring whether or not the owner manages to catch it before it flutters to the ground. With that, I jet off through the hallway and into the mob of students, all making their way to their next class. I take off at full speed, weaving in and out of the crowds in a way only someone who is always in a hurry can. That, and I'd spent half my life dodging the erratic and potentially dangerous movements of my younger siblings.

Anyway, I don't bother to look back as I make my way to my- er, _our_ next class- in the hopes of loosing the stranger who killed my brother. Too bad my plan doesn't quite work out.

As I stop in the doorway, I can sense my ward is right behind me, how he kept up with my pace I do not know. "History," and with that word, I leave him to fend for himself. At least for the next fifty-one minutes.

I slump down in my seat in the corner without another glance at him, doing my best to ignore his inquiring expression. As I pull out my history notebook and a pencil, I realize the desk adjacent to mine is vacant. Mrs. Hernadez never did like rows. It makes the room feel so much smaller than it was. So she pushes the desks together in pairs, making right angles of their surfaces.

I narrow my eyes. The desk on my left is one of the three empty desks for my class. The head count coming to an odd thirty-one. But now, with the addition of our latest exchange student, those numbers will be evened out. And no doubt Mrs. Hernadez will see fit to place the Akage in the seat next to me, in case he needs a bit of help catching up.

I groan. Crim, what's the world got against me? Is this retribution for being such a loner or something?

I watch as my suspicions are confirmed and our new student is asked to sit on my left. Well, there goes my treasured personal space. At least when you have rows, even the person next to you isn't really next to you. Ugh, I can't believe I have to work with this killer.

Using my notebook as an excuse, I ignore his presence with the pretense of opening said notebook and adding unnecessary notes to the pages. Fortunately, the tardy bell rings and Mrs. Hernadez begins class.

Midway through second period though, the boy asks to borrow an eraser. And of course, being the practical person I am, I had laid out an eraser right on my desk.

I glare at the eraser as if blaming it for my troubles and hand it over to the killer with my right hand, wondering if there were any other unusual habits my classmate has other than murdering innocent teenagers in the middle of the night. Maybe he's a demon, he's already a monster in my eyes.

I watch him out of the corner of my eye. When he's done with the eraser, he makes to return it. I have no desire to possess that which has been tainted by his touch, however.

"Keep it."

I watch as he pauses, the eraser still raised to return it to me. Then he withdraws his hand and examines it a bit before placing it on his own desk, to use later.

In science I'm used to sitting across two stools, with one leg on each stool and my body sitting between. I sit in the back you see, and Mrs. Ladey has extra stools, so I just sit at the end of the lab table sitting across the stools and enjoying my personal space. Of course, now with the redhead joining up, I'm forced to relinquish both the extra stool _and_ yet more personal space. Gr, I hate being confined to one side of the table. You don't see as well, I swear.

As for math, Mr. Richardson sees fit to rearrange the entire seating chart, having had problems with a couple of rowdy boys, a few talkative girls, and Anne over there who needs glasses badly. And thus, I now sit behind my brother's murderer in math. Ugh, now I have to stare at that horrible red hair every day.

Ah, now it's time for lunch. Just as always, I jet out of the room as fast as possible. Of course, I realize attempting to lose my shadow at this point would be nothing short of a miracle; considering he's kept up with me for this long already. But that's not what I'm trying to do this time.

No, this time, I'm just trying to get in line for lunch before it stretches out the door and starts looping around the campus. Contrary to popular belief, not all school lunches are bad. This school's lunches actually manage to taste good. Oh, the shock, I'm sure.

The mob of students all heading towards the cafeteria can only be described as a stampede for any unfortunate soul who makes the mistake of not going with the flow or getting in the way. Luckily for me, my skill at weaving through crowds helps me yet again. I squeeze my way passed all competitors, manage to make it to the cafeteria and into line even before some of the track members, and promptly slide into my space at the table in the corner. It's in rather bad condition, with a loose wheel, an unstable leg, and a carved up surface, but it's all mine just for the fact that no one else wants to sit on the thing.

Once again, I value my personal space.

I survey the room as I begin consuming my lunch, noting that my red headed shadow is standing in line not too far from the cashier. I continue to observe him as I eat, speculating as to his motives for being here. I have long stopped wondering why he did it; that is not a question you ask yourself late at night.

As my mind wanders, I don't notice as he gets out of line and heads towards me. Of all the places he can sit, he chooses here. Then again, even I would prefer to stick with people I know, and it seems other tables have their fair share of occupants by now. Well, I am so spaced out, I don't notice his approach until it's too late. My ward sits down on my left, and I tense as I feel the change in weight and the invasion of personal space.

I'm sure he noticed, of course he noticed, he's just that type of guy. We eat in silence and I start to pick at my food, too self conscious to do otherwise. This continues for sometime until the green eyed killer speaks.

"Do I seem intimidating to you?"

"Is there a reason you should?" I grace him with the standard sarcastic teenage response to such questions.

"I won't hurt you, you know." Yeah, tell that to Crim. Oh wait, you can't; he's dead.

"Ch, too late for that Akage."

I get up and throw my half eaten lunch away, ending the conversation. I'm certain he will follow me, in fact, I know he will follow me, but he will also give me space. He's a smart one, he must be to not have tried to start the kind of conversation one enacts when they try to get to know you. This guy is perceptive.

In case you're wondering how I know that "akage" means "redhead" after all the time I've been using it to describe him, our next class should provide the answer. That's right, I take Japanese.

Why? Well because I know their customs are interesting and such defined structure and manners are what my upbringing lacked. In this class, my shadow sits next to me in the front row. Over achiever to my right.

Finally last class rolls around and I get a respite from Akage's presence. PE is the only class we don't share, and even though we might see each other on the track, I can always out run him.

See, I'm from the country, open air, lots of ground, exercise is easy for me. I'm easily the fastest runner in my class and possibly out of all my peers too. When we reach the gym, I stop in the doorway, as I have all day.

"Girls'," I point to the blue double doors on the right that guard the locker rooms. "Boys'." Opposite the girls' locker room on the other side of the gym are the double doors to the boys locker room, a mirror image to the girls' side, only labeled 'boys' in tape. "Meet Ms. Walters on the tennis courts outside. Have fun with the Crazy Walrus."

Before he can ask what I mean, I push open the left side door to the girls' locker room and enter, letting it swing shut behind me.

Once changed and out on the black top, I hear from Mr. Karter that we're running cross country with Walters' class. Inwardly I groan. Some higher being up there has it in for me, I swear. Grinding my teeth I make the best of it by running at my top speed, leaving my classmates in the dust. Apparently my fast pace wasn't fast enough.

Before I know it, the Akage pulls up beside me, looking very casual in his movements and graceful at that. I suspect just to piss me off, he turns towards me, waves, and runs ahead of me. I'm left stopped in my tracks in surprise. Damn him!

Luckily, that's the last I see of the killer for the rest of the day. Once I get home I take a shower and get ready for work.

Snatching the keys off the kitchen counter as I walk into the kitchen, I pour myself another cup of coffee, and glide into the garage almost without a thought to where I'm going. My day to day routine has become a matter of habit to me, like clockwork. I hop into my dark blue truck with its sparkling glossy paint and start the ignition, driving off to work just like any other day.

And where do I work but the local MechMed. For those of you who don't know what that means, it's a huge repair shop chain. Only the best of the best can claim to be a true employee of MechMed. And we don't confine our services to just automobiles either, any form of mechanical failure, be sure, we can handle, and if we can't, then there's no charge. See, the way our services work is that each technician is paid based on commission. What kind of job it was, how much time it took, and the numbers of jobs completed within a week are all factors going into our pay checks. So all the technicians do their best to satisfy the customers, because they have a choice of selecting which technician they would like to work on their machines based on past experiences and recommendations.

I drive up to the employee parking lot and smoothly bring my truck to a stop in my reserved space. Every employee has their own parking spot. Just goes to show you how good this place is. Hopping out of my truck and grabbling my tool box out of the back, my co-workers greet me grudgingly as I wave towards them. They're all working away on their current project.

They don't much like me. I used to be just the average mechanic. Crim on the other hand, was the best there was, until he died. Now that he's gone, I seem to have gotten better at fixing things, so my advancement in popularity has everyone else grumbling.

After six hours at work, I get home and take yet another shower. I tend to take showers often because of my line of work. All that oil and grease. Getting ready for bed, I change into my pajamas and all that other good stuff. When I'm done I make sure to turn off all the lights in the house before returning to my room.

Before I can climb into bed though, I have to remind myself where all the junk on the floor is so I don't step on any of it as I make my way across the room after I turn out my light. Scanning the room to make sure I know where to step, I turn out the light.

As a habit, I look out my window that overlooks the backyard. The house behind the low fence is for sale. I can just make out a few branches of the tree from here. But this time, I see something different.

_**Glowing red eyes**_.

* * *

_**Accidental.Enlightenment in the present tense.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_Eyes that glow in the night__  
Streak of Crimson in a fight__  
Splash of blood that soils ground__  
Taint the snow all around__  
I See the Color Red_

**I See the Color Red**

_My face when I do confide  
Shade my eyes turn when I cry  
Soul is tainted by a lie  
The fire burns deep inside  
I See the Color Red_

It's been almost five weeks since the blood of Crimson Breaks stained the freshly fallen snow. Five days since Shuichi Minamino started attending classes at my school. And not five minutes since I got paired up with my brother's redheaded killer for a science project.

Crim, what am I going to do?

Apparently there's nothing I can do about this pairing. Ms. Ladey's decision is final. I am now stuck with my brother's murderer for however long it takes to complete this project. The project is due in a month though, which is a bad sign if that's any measure of how long it could take to build a boat.

Of course, the boat is tiny, but I think that's what makes this project even more challenging. Getting it to fit parameters, float, and move seven feet in a straight line.

Well it's lunch now, and here I am, once again eating with the murderer. I have yet to discover his motives for being here. Much less sticking with me when he's had so many invitations to sit with others, like the cheerleaders over there. Or even the band geeks over there, or the bookworms back there, or the game/anime freaks jumping around over there, or the computer nerds over there. Crim knows they all want to sit with him. So why, pray tell, is the redhead sitting next to me? The only person in the room who doesn't want anything to do with him?

Luckily, he knows I'm not much for small talk, and has learned about my issue with personal space. He now sits across from me on the table at a slight angle, at which I can see him better, and he's no longer cramping my space. Still, that doesn't mean I'm okay with the whole project thing.

Supposedly, I have to go to work today, but I suppose since I'm only paid on commission and have no set appointments today, I can always take the day off and work on this project. The sooner we get this thing done the better. You can bet my mind is already working out solutions to the weight problem, possible building materials, and speed factors. I am mechanically inclined after all.

Basically I sit all through lunch in a distracted state, eating slowly. Before I know it, the bell rings for fifth period, and not much time passes before sixth period rolls around.

After school, I find my shadow casually leaning against the outside the gym, waiting for me. We had agreed to meet about the project earlier, so I'm not surprised to see him here.

"So, your house or mine?" I asked as I stroll out of the gym.

"I'm afraid my house is still somewhat in the unpacking stage. Would it be a problem to work at your place?" So polite, it really gets to me how he can seem so calm, especially since I know what he's capable of.

I shrug. "Sure, why not." Not like I have anything to hide. Besides, this way, I know where the knives are.

When we get back to my house, I open up the garage and start pulling tools from my tool box in the back of my truck. I rummage through some other junk in the back of the garage and end up grabbing a large block of foam, the tiny regulated motor, and any tin or aluminum material I can find that might make a good propeller.

The Akage watches without a word, though I can sense his eyes following me as I glide here and there around the garage, and he silently follows me as I enter the house through the garage. Entering the living room, I dump everything on the floor. Then I wander into the kitchen and pour myself the second cup of coffee for the day. Maybe I depend on caffeine too much.

With a shrug I sit myself on the ground and my project partner follows suite. He doesn't seem to mind my lack of manners in not offering him something to drink as well. Good, because there's no way I'm being any more civil than I need to be with this guy.

Still, I am forced to talk to him about the project. I begin listing all my concerns and ideas for the project. We discuss the project easily enough, though I do so grudgingly. I really don't care much to have an agreeable conversation with my brother's murderer, but this is for a grade.

We soon begin shaping out the boat from the foam block. Keeping the design simple, as the mechanic's first rule goes, "KISS. Keep It Simple, Stupid."

First thing we do is cut the foam block down to the defined parameters before attaching the motor and batteries. After that we shape the propeller from a sheet of tin and attach it with a metal rod. We are careful not to place the motor where it will get too wet, but we don't test the boat yet because I don't happen to have a bathtub or swimming pool or anything of the like in my house. Figure we'll test it somewhere else. I've been in the house the Akage moved into. The one on the other side of the fence in my back yard. I know the house has got a tub, so I figure we'll test it there.

It has gotten late. By the time we decide to call it quits, it's already dark out. I stand up to get a box for the boat and all the loose pieces so we can clean up and the Akage can leave. It takes me a while, but after a bit of rummaging though the closet next to the garage, I finally find a box perfect for the boat.

Coming back to the living room, I find the Akage has stood up and is standing next to the fire place. Probably looking at the pictures on the mantle. Quietly, I lean against the wall as I watch him pick up my picture. I'm not surprised, nor am I struck by any feelings of resentment or anger. Strangely, I seem to be accepting his actions. I suppose my logic is overriding my emotions on this one. Besides, everyone is entitled to their curiosity.

After examining it for a bit, he puts it down, only to pick up the next one. This one is of my family back in the country side. They're all on the front porch. My mother and father on the swing, with little Robin in my mother's lap. Jake's hanging off the arm of the swing, while Mary's smiling widely in her pretty red dress. Aaron's got mud all over his trousers, but he's grinning like a fool. And Grandpop's sitting on the steps with Stephanie behind him, hugging him from behind. This picture was taken after we left, so we're not in it.

After scanning this picture, he puts it down and moves on to the last one.

A picture of Crim.

He doesn't look much like me, aside from the blonde hair and blue eyes deal. His eyes were always more innocent and pure. Mine are darker. We're fraternal twins, so we don't have to look alike. He's got a different facial structure than I do. Heart shaped and innocent.

I can see the killer's breath pause for a moment as he recognizes his victim. I can't see his eyes from this angle, but I don't need to. I know for sure now that he killed my brother.

I know now that this monster before me is the reason I won't ever see Crimson smile anymore. The reason I will never hear his innocent laughter again. And the reason I will never feel Crim's arms around me again, hugging me when I'm down. Sometimes I imagine I can, but I know that's just my mind playing tricks on me.

Oh Crim, I miss you.

My eyes fade at these thoughts until I note that Akage has put Crim's picture back on the mantle again. This catches my attention and brings me out of my thoughts. By now I figure I've been searching for the box long enough, so I step out from behind the wall casually.

"That's my twin brother Crimson. He's seventeen." I gesture with the hand the box is in towards the picture the Akage is still looking at.

"Seventeen? Then logically, he should be in school as well. I've never seen him around." Oh, so he's playing clueless now is he. Well, I suppose he wouldn't know that much about Crimson in the first place. Still, he's _knows _dead people can't go to school. And you most definitely can't see ghosts.

"He doesn't go to school. You can legally drop out of school at the age of sixteen and go to work, you know. Crim used to work over at MechMed." Emphasis on _used_ _to._

"And what does he do now?" Cha, like he has to ask.

I stop putting materials away for a moment. Just staring at the leg of the coffee table. I don't quite know how to put it, but I eventually find the words. "He watches over me." I say, continuing to put away the boat.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well you should be." I made my voice as casual as possible, as if I were discussing politics or reasoning out a situation off the news. I have the boat neatly packed in the box at this point, and I stand up with my back towards him. "You did kill him after all." I tell him with a quirk of my head.

And with that statement, I leave him standing there.

* * *

_**Accidental.Enlightenment, a product of Fate and akin to Destiny.**_  



	3. Chapter 3

_Eyes that glow in the night__  
Streak of Crimson in a fight__  
Splash of blood that soils ground__  
Taint the snow all around__  
I See the Color Red _

_My face when I do confide  
Shade my eyes turn when I cry  
Soul is tainted by a lie  
The fire burns deep inside  
I See the Color Red_

**I See the Color Red**

_Anger taken much too far  
Color of the coldest star  
Signs on road call a stop  
Just my hands when I am caught__  
I See the Color Red_

Saturday morning; what am I doing here. I stare at the beautifully carved oak door in front of me. This is the place. I know it well. The last owners moved out about a year ago. When Crim and I first moved in the block over, they were the first to greet us, asking if we wanted them to trim the tree that was hanging over the low fence. We decided to just let the tree grow as it was. But we had the tree trimmed before they moved out, unsure what the new owners would be like.

It was in that very tree that I saw those glowing red eyes staring back at me six days ago. That night Crim's killer started attending my school. So now why am I standing in front of his house?

It's because of this.

I glance down at the box in my left hand. Yeah, the boat. I'd prefer to get this over with, if all it takes is testing it and making a few minor adjustments to the propeller and rudder. I've got all the tools with me too.

Shifting the box to my right hand, I reluctantly knock on the door. It doesn't take long until the door is opened by the Akage, an eyebrow raised in curious surprise.

"Good morning, Miss Breaks. I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

"We've got a project to finish, Akage. And the sooner the better." I raise the box to emphasis my meaning, my tone all business.

"Of course." Emotionless mask firmly in place, he admits me into his home, and I not the lack of decorum. The place seems so much bigger now, what without the previous furniture.

An old white couch on white carpet against white washed walls. The place screams of change. What with the lack of distractions, my eyes easily spot the dark figure sitting on the windowsill. He is staring out the window, eyes unseen to me, but I can tell he knows that I'm here. Wary of anything remotely related to the Akage, I scan the darkly clad figure and take note of the calloused hands of a swordsman on the stranger. Confirming this assumption, a katana is leaned against the opposite side of the sill.

Turning my attention back to Shuichi, waiting patiently by the hallway, I say, "So, let's test this." Once again I lift the box.

Without requiring him to show me the way, I make a beeline for the bathroom with the tub. Waiting for it to fill up with water I jump on the counter and swing my legs in total disregard to Akage's presence. Finally the tub is filled enough for the boat not to scrape the bottom, and I turn off the tap.

The boat floats easily, as I hoped it would. Now, will it go straight? A twist of the wires closes the circuit and connects the batteries, bring the propeller to a nice swift spin. Carefully, I place it in the water.

To my relief, it travels the seven feet, but it veers to the right quite a bit and almost runs into the wall of the tub. Luckily I catch it before it had a chance to capsize.

"I know words won't bring him back, but I'm sorry about your brother-" I ignore the Akage as I pull out my pliers and make a few adjustments to the propeller. One twist and I place it back in the water. This time it runs straight.

Satisfied with the results I fish it out of the water and turn it off, placing it on the edge of the tub. Continuing to ignore the murderer's words, I stand up.

"We're done." And with that I exit the bathroom.

Out in the hallway I find the same dark figure from before leaned up against the wall. Upon seeing him, I stop where I stand.

Suddenly his eyes are no longer hidden from me. With a turn of his head, he is glaring at me. Maybe it's just his nature to glare at people he doesn't know. Or perhaps he just thinks he's better than everyone. But the reasoning is irrelevant to me. Nothing matters but what I see.

_Glowing red eyes._

The next thing I know, my vision blurs. I fall to my knees as memories flash before my eyes. Not my memories; Crim's.

I can remember clearly now, Crimson had been out with some new friends of his. They were kind of new to town, and he was showing them around. I wasn't with them. I had homework. Like the naïve kid he was, Crimson trusted these new friends, he really liked them.

It had been snowing. Fresh frost coated the ground. They were stopped on their way home by a stranger. Red hair, long and in a ponytail. Out of the corner of his eye, Crim saw a pair of glowing red eyes perched on the roof of the building next to him.

His new friends took one look at the man before them and started out in a break neck run. Still, they didn't know the area well enough to know the ally they were headed for was a dead end. Heck, even Crim didn't know it was a dead end.

Finding them trapped between a rock and a hard place, Crim turns around to face the stranger, who had started talking. He told Crim that his new friends were really demons in disguise. They looked human, well enough, but appearances could be deceiving. Told him that his new friends were very dangerous, especially because they blended in so well. He needed Crim to step aside.

Crim refused to believe him. There was no way, he trusted these guys. They were his friends, they would have told him something as important as that. No way was Crim gonna let the stranger hurt them. No way.

And he stood there, with his arms outstretched, like he could really protect them. Him with no weapons and no real combat skills whatsoever.

The owner of the glowing red eyes suddenly appeared beside the red head with a blur. One moment there was nothing there, the next, a glaring Goth.

The memory was still unstable, all I could understand was that the second stranger muttered something along the lines of "stupid humans" and "don't know what's good for them."

"I really can't afford to let these demons go. I have no choice." Sighed the red head. If Crim would not move, he had no choice. And with that he pulled out a red rose from- my mind strained to understand. His hair? Suddenly it was a rose no longer, but a long thorned whip of vine.

A flick of his wrist and pain shot through my head. I hunched over and held my head with a groan. With the termination of Crim's life, my own memories took over. It was well passed midnight, and I had been worried about Crim. Going out to find him, I walked in the general direction he and his new friends had headed. After a few minutes of walking, I started jogging, tension crackling in my body. I began frantically looking for any sign of the group, or even just a sign of life. I was met with silence, and that in itself was scarier than any noise I could have heard at that moment.

Eventually, I came across the alley. The street light was flickering, badly in need of maintenance. I saw the footprints in the snow and came to a halt, my eyes slowly following the tracks as my mind had gone numb from the cold.

My stomach dropped. The snow was covered with blood. It had just begun to turn pink as the blood sunk in. The entire picture was all at once revealed to my eyes. Blood everywhere. And there, laying on the ground was Crimson. I could see where the blood was seeping out of his wounds, tainting yet more snow with his life substance.

My body trembles, and suddenly I'm released from my flashback. I find myself huddled on the floor, clutching my head. Akage's shadow falls over my form. I must have cried out or something. Knowing he would assume his companion had done something to me, I force my mind to clear and my body to move.

I'm sure I appear out of it, I feel like it at least. In fact, I can't have more than whispered the words.

_It's not your fault._

* * *

**_Accidental.Enlightenment burned into your mind._**  



	4. Chapter 4

_Eyes that glow in the night_  
_Streak of Crimson in a fight_  
_Splash of blood that soils ground  
Taint the snow all around  
I See the Color Red _

_My face when I do confide  
Shade my eyes turn when I cry  
Soul is tainted by a lie  
The fire burns deep inside  
I See the Color Red_

_Anger taken much too far  
Color of the coldest star  
Signs on road call a stop  
Just my hands when I am caught__  
I See the Color Red_

**I See the Color Red**

_Roses dance in my mind__  
Only color that I find  
Love that never seemed to be  
Memories that never leave  
I See the Color Red_

"It's not your fault." I'm so out of it, I can't do more than whisper the words.

"Of course it's my fault. I am responsible for my own actions." I didn't even have to explain what I meant, he knew exactly what I was talking about.

"No, it's not your fault. Crim always was a naïve fool. Noble, kind hearted, but a fool." I'm not even sure I'm talking to Akage. Just reminiscing about Crim. "I never could understand how he managed to stay so pure. I guess it was just a gift. Like his way with Mechanics."

My eyes fall to stare at my hands. They're decorated with nicks and scratches, grease perpetually under my nails.

"A gift that's now mine I guess."

Suddenly I look up at Akage. "You know, I wasn't there that night." I'm surprised my voice is so casual. "I got there too late." Irony rang true in every statement.

"But I can see it as clear as day. Like a movie playing through my mind." Akage's expression betrays nothing. No surprise, no curiosity, no emotion at all. Merely the expression of polite listening. Not that I really care what the killer feels.

_Glowing red eyes in the night, flash of red amidst a fight, blood that stains the pure white snow, I see the color red, you know._

"I guess I really can't blame you. You did what you had to do." Besides, I can still feel him, always near by.

"Skylar, if you weren't there, then how can you remember me?" Concern is the dominant emotion in this question.

I smile a smile I never thought myself capable of. A cheeky grin my brother always wore whenever he was being especially naive.

"They aren't my memories. They're Crim's." My voice is soaked in childish innocence.

Akage and his companion exchange glances.

"You know Miss Breaks, we were sent to find your brother's soul. It never appeared in Spirit World after his death."

I must really still be out of it, because I continued to speak in childish tones. "After you killed him, you mean. What's Spirit World?"

Akage leads me to sit on the couch, preparing me for a long story. I learn of demons and Spirit World and Koenma. Kurama is especially careful with his choice of words. He explains without interruption from me, but not without a few comments from Hiei, as I learn is his name.

I, myself simply sit and absorb all the new information. I can't really say I'm surprised. Everything they tell me just seems…right. Like my subconscious already knows everything they tell me. When they finish, I tell them so.

"The reason we've been looking for your brother's soul isn't just because it's missing. But because he died before his time, there's a chance we can bring him back."

"But don't you need his body intact?"

"Actually, no. A friend of mine informed me just recently that because Crimson had a certain soul type, as long as his soul can be found, we can bring him back regardless of the condition of his body."

I take a moment to contemplate this. I never thought I could ever see Crim again. He's dead right? Beyond reach? Then again, if Spirit World can be so easily traveled to from Human World, then maybe not.

"I think I know where my brother's soul is."

Two sets of eyebrows shoot up at this.

I might have guessed it sooner. I always woke up imagining my brother's voice. Imagining his laughter when I completely goof up. That night, when I saw him lying there in the snow, I didn't go into shock. I didn't go into denial. My mind had been blank. I saw his body there, but I felt he hadn't truly left me. I- I just can't touch him anymore.

"He never really left you see. I told you he watches over me. I can still feel him. Just not physically. If I have Crim's memories, maybe I also have Crim's soul, too."

"But how can that be?" Akage leans back and ponders.

"I can feel it, inside of me."

Akage uncrosses his leg. "If that is the case, then perhaps we should consult Koenma about this." He stands up. "But not today. You're exhausted." I rise as well. I'm so tired I don't even care that his hand is guiding me towards the door. "Go home and rest. We'll discuss this tomorrow."

Sunday morning I find myself standing in a blue office. The walls, floor, and ceiling all have this tiled pattern of white on blue. Behind me is a large automatic door. Nothing about it is grand, merely too big for the toddler sitting in the looming office chair behind the desk.

I just stand there examining the few details of the room as Prince of Spirit World shuffles through his papers. We both know he knows I'm here, but we wait. I couldn't sleep last night. Only as false dawn lit on my window did I drift off into exhuasted slumber. Only for me to wake myself again after reviewing my memories in my dreams. Finally my stare gets to be too much for Koenma, and he looks up.

"Ah, Skylar Breaks."

Yeah, that's my name. For the first time in seven days I hear my first name again. He scrutinizes me for a while. Or rather, the air around me. Like he can see my aura or something.

"So, what's the verdict Doc," I ask to make a joke out of all of this.

"As you suggested, I'm afraid Crimson's soul is indeed in your body. The problem is, it has managed to intertwine his soul with your's, giving you some of his attributes. Particular parts of his personality for example." Koenma sighs. "I hate to tell you this, but I can't bring him back like I intended. Trying to extract his soul from yours is a delicate process and could be fatal to one or both of you. I just can't risk killing another civilian."

He watches me like I'm going to yell at him or break down and cry or something. My eyes lose focus and my gaze drops to the corner of his desk. I nod. After an entire night's worth of thinking, I hadn't expected much.

"That's fine." I shrug. "I really didn't expect you to be able to do something anyway. And what am I gonna tell the folks? That some toddler of a prince felt pity on a poor farm boy and decided to give him a second chance? I don't think so."

The toddler opens his mouth to speak, but I turn away. The door slides open for me and I raise my left arm in a backwards good-bye.

"See ya around, Koenma."

As the doors slide shut behind me, I find Hiei leaning against the wall. His arms are crossed and his eyes closed. One red eye cracks open when I stop in front of him.

"Where's the Akage?"

"Home, with his human mother." He ground out. Must not like his mother.

"Then why are you still here?"

"To make sure you don't get lost on your way back." He uncrossed his arms and stopped leaning against the wall. His voice full of contemptuous justification.

I brush past him towards the exit. "Riight, I can find my own way out, you know." I look back over my shoulder. "But I'd appreciate it all the same."

And once again, I smile Crim's smile.

* * *

_**Accidental.Enlightenment, signing out.**_  



End file.
